Dark day at the Robinson House
by Mrs. Wilbur Robinson
Summary: Oneshot taken from line in MTR. Wilbur tells Lewis of the first prototype time machine, how it had been a 'dark day at the robinson house.' But what actually happened on that fateful day? WARNING: A bit gory, not for the faint of heart!


_A/N: This is my very first fanfic, a one-shot based on the line said in Disneys Meet The Robinsons. Wilbur showed Lewis a bolt that was the only thing left from the first prototype Time Machine his dad built. He told Lewis that it had been a "dark day at the Robinson House." And so, the idea was born! MWA HAHAHA:) please read, enjoy, review (be kind!). _

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Meet The Robinsons. Sadly._

Dark day at the Robinson House

12 year old Wilbur walked into his fathers lab, hands in pockets, unconsciously whistling to the theme song of his favourite television show: Captain Time Travel. He grinned, his handsome smile lighting up his face as he stood just out of earshot, watching his dad tinkering under a massive metal husk and muttering curse words that Wilbur was positive his mother didn't know about. This wasn't the first time Cornelius Robinson's obsession had driven him to the brink of a nervous breakdown. But even Wilbur, with his slightly-less-than-average grades was smart enough to know that inventing the first time machine in the history of mankind would doubtless take more than a fortnight. That wouldn't stop his dad from trying though. He had nearly finished his first prototype, and Wilbur knew better than to startle him at times like this. A clip on the ear was the least of his worries. So he retreated back outside the door, and knocked, at the same time calling loudly:

"Dad?"

BANG.

"OW!"

_Whoops, _thought Wilbur. He poked his head around the door,watching as the blonde man removed himself from underneath the machinery, rubbing his head and groaning.

"Uh...mum just wanted you to know that dinner's about to start." Said Wilbur to the floor, hoping his dad wasn't holding any heavy, jaw-breaking tools in his hand. "Carl made spaghetti...your favourite!" He added, trying to lighten the mood..

His father sighed and looked at his watch, then glanced longingly at his near-finished Time Machine.

"Look, I'll grab something later...its just, I'm _so_ close t-" Cornelius was cut off by his son just shrugging as he waved the excuses away with his hand.

"It's fine dad! We understand, it's no big deal. Just let me know when you're finished, OK? I wanna be the first to come with you if it works!" Wilbur grinned again, and ran down the hallway before his father could get a word in edgewise.

Cornelius smiled after his son, then turned back to face his project. He took off his glasses and wiped them on the sleeve of his lab coat as he thought hard about the wiring sequence that would complete his hard work. There was only to discover which of the components connected to his time input device, which would allow him to stop the time dilation once it had occured. Otherwise the whole point of this machine would be worthless if he had no way to stop the machine once it started. _Come on! I can do this_, he thought. Then he chuckled as he rearranged his torso under the machine and picked up the wire-cutter. _Gotta 'keep moving forward'_...

Everyone looked up as Wilbur made his way into the dining hall, cautious for any stray pasta flying his way. Franny raised an eyebrow in question.

"Nah, he says later. He reckons he's just about done." Wilbur explained as he found his chair and sat down. Immediately the family started speculating on how Cornelius' invention could revolutionise their lives. Grandpa Bud commented to Aunt Billie how he could finally see the one football game he had ever missed back in '07. Franny remarked how she would go back to accept Cornelius' first marriage proposal, instead of waiting until she thought he was 'mature' enough. Upon hearing this, Wilbur snorted into his spaghetti. _My dad, not mature?! Fat chance. _The thought itself was just too ridiculous a notion. Prepostrous. Luckily his mother did not notice his unusual behaivour.

It was halfway through dessert when they heard it. Felt it, more like. A colossal BOOM accompanied with the house shaking down to its foundations is not something one could easily miss. All the women screamed as plates fell heavily to the ground where they shattered, littering the floor with numerous pieces of china. Franny clutched her son as the shaking subsided, looking at the ceiling.

"You don't think..." she whispered, before Wilbur wrenched himself from her grasp. He was past the door before anyone else even registered what was going on. He took the staircase two at a time, as his ears picked up the rest of the family thundering behind him. He skidded to a halt as he neared the laboratory doors, watching thick black smoke make its way through the crack at the bottom. In shock, he watched his arm follow the familiar path the doornob, hardly daring to comprehend what he might see inside. His relatives had now caught up, and gripped each other as Wilbur slowly cracked open the blast doors. He stepped back as the smoke became too much, and the group waited in terror for it to clear.

When it finally did, everyone looked from one to another, each not wanting to go first. After a minute of this, Bud cleared his throat and nodded, taking the few steps into the large room home to his adopted son's many creations. Well...what was left of them.

In the center of the room was a burn mark, at least 3 meters in diameter, which branced outwards towards every corner of the room. Previous inventions were in pieces, soot-blackened and charred. Small fires here and there lit the room, exposing what was left of the glass dome roof. No one could believe it. All of Cornelius' things...CORNELIUS!!! Wilbur snapped out of his stupor, frantically looking around for any hint, any clue, which could indicate his dad's existance. Suddenly:

"AARRRRRGH!!!!" It was Tallulah. Just before she fainted.

Everyone's heads whipped around, and took in what they saw. Lucille joined her neice on the floor, and Art vomited up his earlier meal.

Behind them, over 3 meters above the ground, hung the founder of the future; Cornelius Robinson. A jagged piece of metal roughly one and a half meters long -undoubtably from his Time Machine- had punched straight through his right side from the force of the explosion and embedded its end clean into the west wall. His whole bottom half was drenched in his own crimson blood from the still-flowing wound. His hands and the left-hand side of his face were badly burned, and there was blood on the wall from where his head had smashed against it. His glasses had shattered upon impact with the wall and bits of glass remained, cutting into his cheeks. As his weight pressed down against the metal poking through his stomach, the sharp edges were beginning to cut ever so slowly up through the flesh on his chest, endangering his lungs. He was still gasping and struggling to remain conscious as he held onto the stake-like object holding him above his family.

Lazlo was the first to act. He made full use if the levitating boots Cornelius had designed for him and flew over to the south wall, pressing all his weight against the emergency button that would call both the police and an ambulance. It had never been used before. Wilbur continued to stare in shock, even as his mother grabbed him around the waist and sobbed into his shoulder as she carried him out of the room, not wanting her 'baby' to see his father in such a state. Carl elevated his robotic legs until he was supporting Cornelius, halting the jagged metal's journey up through the man's torso. It was the contact with the robot that jolted the young inventor out of shock.

The remaining members of the family who were not out for the count watched in horror as Cornelius let out a bloodcurling scream of pain, followed by the longest string of curse words any of them had ever heard, punctuated with "wrong #$! wires" every so often. His limbs started flailing and more than one _crack!_ was heard. Eventually his screams faded to incoherent groaning as his breathing slowed and his eyes began to flicker shut. Carl knew how important it was for someone with a concussion to stay awake until their head could be treated...they couldn't risk Cornelius slipping into a life-long coma.

"Come ON! Look at me! You-"

He was interrupted as Franny rushed the doctors in, took another glance at her dying husband, cried out and rushed away again. Carl heaved a sigh in relief as Gaston set up two ladders on either side of the dangling Cornelius, and the medics quickly got to work. Before they could treat anything however, they needed their patient on the ground. The doctor manning Cornelius' left was named Peter Smith, and the other, James Parker. James got out a bone scanner and surveyed the damage while Peter fetched a laser cutter and asked Cornelius questions (even though the man was undeniably in too much pain to give a proper answer).

James sighed as he quickly studied the segment of metal driven through the bleeding man. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain this guy was going through. After a final scrutiny, he announced to his partner:

"Cut it off from behind him. We'll pull it out of his stomach once we get him to the ground." Cornelius groaned and coughed up blood onto the doctors' scanner.

"Please...just...do it. Now." He whispered almost incoherately.

The two young men looked at each other with grim determination on their faces. They were going to make sure this man survived. He was the scientific genius that made founded their entire generation, for cyring out loud. He deserved it. Peter activated his laser saw and began cutting through the small bit of metal that was visibly poking out of Cornelius' back that hadn't been driven into the wall. Carl kept his hold on his creator's legs, watching quietly as James addressed the almost unconscious Cornelius.

"Hello? Still with me?" His reply was another gut-wrenching moan from the broken inventor. "Good. I want you to stay that way. Awake, I mean. Now I'm going to slip this length of leather in your mouth so you can bite down on it when you need to. And trust me...you'll be needing it." Another moan, as James opened Cornelius' mouth just wide enough to place the leather strap in, being careful to avoid the burn on his face. Peter called out:

"I'm nearly finished! You! With the flying boots! When I say, grab hold of the piece of metal and float GENTLY down with us to the stretcher there." Lazlo nodded, and flew up to join them by the gasping man. "Almost done...OK, lift...NOW!" Cornelius would have fallen from the wall, if not held up by Carl, and the giant piece of metal still embedded in his chest lifted by Lazlo.

Cornelius jerked and yelled through his mouthpiece as he was placed on the awaiting stretcher, where three other doctors took hold of the metal sticking vertically from his lower chest, and two more held his shoulders down as Peter cut his shirt off. James set up a larger version of his bone scanner, so the doctors could see their progress when extracting the extremely large titanium fragment, as Peter leaned down to talk to the sweating and gasping man.

"You've done excellently, Mr. Robinson. Now I'm going to count down from five, then we are going to remove this from your stomach as gently as humanly possible. But I can guarantee this will hurt like hell for you-" (Peter looked up as the other doctors glared at him) "-but it'll be over soon. I need you awake until we can patch up your head. AWAKE. I cannot stress that enough. Ready, James?" The other man looked over from his scanner.

"Just about." James replied. He hardly noticed the slim, raven-haired teenager approach the table with tear stains on his cheeks, grasping for his father's hand as his mother watched from the doorway, gripping Gaston's arm as hard as he would allow.

"Excuse me, young man-" Peter started, before he was interrupted by a growl from Cornelius.

"Let him...stay." He breathed, eyes closed. "Please..."

Peter nodded, then turned to James.

"Ready."

"OK, Mr. Robinson. Hang in there. Five...Four...Three...Two...One..."

The doctors began, exceedingly carefully, pulling the metal through the young man's flesh, guided by the scanner. Their progress was somewhat dampened by the heart-wrenching screams that echoed around the blackened walls, as Cornelius bit down through the leather hard enough to dislodge teeth. He thrashed on the table as best he could with the two doctors doing their very best to hold him down. Wilbur regretted his hand-holding gesture to his father when two of his fingers broke from the pressure his father exerted on them. It seemed to take an eternity (but was in reality only 2 minutes) to remove the accursed metal, as the doctors tried their hardest to block out Cornelius' muffled howls and yells, as tears slid from his eyes to scorch the burnt flesh below. Wilbur cried along with his dad, his eyes shut against the bloodied heap that was his father.

Cornelius collapsed, still sobbing, with ruby-red blood flowing freely again from his chest. Wilbur was directed into the ambulance as the doctors assessed his father while running alongside the stretcher through the main doors of his home. The metal, stained scarlet, was tossed aside. Franny climbed in after her son, her will to support her husband stronger than that of her stomach. Both sat in silence while the ambulance was flown as fast as possible to the closest hospital; St John of Gods. Franny moved to hold Wilbur's hand when Cornelius started bucking on the stretcher from lack of blood, to quickly hold the other one when Wilbur yelped in pain. But he knew it was nothing compared to the pain of the man whos only recognizable feature was the spiky, blonde hair.

Once his father was in the surgery room and there was as many healing hands as possible being laid on him, Wilbur turned to face his mother. She looked at him, twisting her fingers around her gold wedding ring, crying silent tears. Wilbur literally ran into her embrace and cried for what felt like the hundreth time that day. That day he learned to cry. They sat like that for the whole night, Franny rocking her son while they waited not-so-paitently for the verdict. It was mid-morning when a nurse approched them.

"Mrs. Robinson?"

Franny and Wilbur stood up and walked slowly over to the friendly-looking woman, not sure if they wanted to hear what this lady had to tell them of the man in their lives. She smiled at them.

"He's going to make it."


End file.
